by Sarah Kleck
CHAPTER 20
It was dark and cold. Dreadfully cold. I had no idea how far I’d run and knew even less about where I was. All I could make out in the dark forest was the faint light of the moon high above the treetops. I’d have to admit it sooner or later: I was lost. There was no point in going on. I’d probably only get lost deeper in the forest. The best thing I could do in this situation was find shelter and wait for sunrise.
While I collected fir branches to make a shelter under two trees, I shrank in fright from every sound the nocturnal forest and its inhabitants made. For someone as afraid of darkness as I was, this was the worst conceivable spot for spending the night—even the snapping of twigs under my own steps caused me tremendous fright. When I’d finally finished building my emergency shelter, I sat under the provisional moss roof, pulled my knees to my body, and tried to block out the recurring thoughts of the past day. In vain. Tears ran down my cheeks and dripped onto my pants and the damp forest floor.
I must have fallen asleep somehow, for when I opened my eyes, I’d rolled over on my side. I couldn’t have slept for long, at most an hour or two, because it was still pitch-black and bitterly cold—so cold I shivered all over, and my teeth were chattering.
“I can smell her.”
I startled. Who the hell had said that? I clasped my hands over my mouth to suppress a cry. I hastily looked around, but my eyes were still heavy with sleep and hadn’t become accustomed to the dark yet, so I couldn’t see anything through the branches of my shelter.
“The slut can’t be far,” another croaking voice said from the same direction, but this time I was able to identify the sound: damnati. I tried to breathe as silently as possible. The horrible memory of the scarfaced monster that had lain in wait for me in my room flared up in my thoughts. There was no doubt—they were after me! How many were there? Just these two? Or more? What should I do? Panic and desperation overcame me as I feverishly thought of how I might escape the clutches of these hideous creatures. My muscles tensed, ready to flee . . . or fight—depending on what happened. I slowly raised myself and, like a sprinter before the starting gun, squatted on my haunches when a thin twig broke with a crack under my left foot. I held my breath.
“Did you hear that?” one of the scarfaces said.
“What?”
“There was a noise, a cracking—from there,” said the first.
“Have you found anything?” another, deeper croak asked.
Shit! There were three of them—at least!
“I heard something,” the first said, somewhat subdued.
“Well, then go take a look and see what it is, you idiot,” the third one said. “Or do you want to try Her patience any longer?”
“No, of course not,” the first said.
“If we don’t find the brat soon, she’ll pluck our eyes out.”
Suddenly, I heard steps coming straight for me. I was running out of time. What should I do? Flee or fight, flee or fight, flee or . . . flee!
With one bound I was up. I pushed aside the branches I’d so painstakingly piled and ran for it.
“There!” cried the first one. “There she is!”
“Grab her, you numbskulls!” yelled the third croaking voice.
I ran as fast as I could in a blind panic. My lungs ached from the cold air as I drove my legs relentlessly forward. My steps were uncoordinated, and I could only guess where I was going in the darkness. I dove under a low branch at the very last second—otherwise it probably would have knocked me out—and stumbled when a wide tree trunk appeared before me. My lungs burned with every breath; it felt like a thousand pinpricks. I angled away fast—a desperate attempt to shake my pursuers—but tripped on a protruding root and fell down. Shit!
As fast as I could, I rose and continued to run, but two of the hooded ones had almost caught up with me. Where was the third? I could almost feel their acrid breath on the back of my neck. They were right on my heels, panting and gasping. It wouldn’t be long before they’d catch me. I clenched my teeth and ran as fast as I could, forcing myself not to look back. Then I perceived another shadow approaching, this time from the side. I saw from the corner of my eye how he got ready to jump. I tried to change direction but the figure in the fluttering cloak had already taken off and thrown himself on me. I immediately went down under his weight. I rolled on my back underneath him, kicked with all my strength into his stomach and drilled my thumb deep into his gooey eye socket, just as Colin had taught me. There was a howl. The scarface attempted to grab my arms, but I rolled to the side and rammed my knee with full force into his groin, causing him to double over. A second later, I’d torn away and scrambled to get to my feet, but the others had already reached me. They were so close it would’ve been futile to run. So I gritted my teeth to suppress my flight reflex and focused on what Colin had taught me. One damnatus charged me from the front—and I knew just how to counter it. When he was only a few feet away, he widened his eyes in fright because I stood rooted. I took him down with a well-aimed kick and brought the tip of my boot down on his head and face. There was no time to completely neutralize him because the other one had reached me and grabbed me by the hair. I rammed my elbow into his stomach as hard as I could. He immediately doubled over with a retching sound.
I thought I had overcome all my assailants but suddenly bumped into another one and heard ringing laughter. I turned around, frightened. I was surrounded. At least thirty of the cloak-wearers had appeared and formed a circle around me. I shrank back, stumbling with fear, noticing only too late that one of the ones I’d taken down had risen to his feet again. I saw him move in my direction from the corner of my eye, then something cracked against my temple, and I collapsed.
“That bitch was hard to catch.” The voice echoed dully as I came to. At first, I felt as if I was anesthetized—but then came the pain in my head.
“Where did she learn to fight like that?” croaked another voice.
As I slowly came to my senses, I noticed my body was tilting back and forth in an odd way. I opened my eyes—just the tiniest bit so the monsters wouldn’t know I was awake—and found one of the hideous creatures had slung me over his shoulder, my wrists and ankles tied up.
“For your sake, I hope she didn’t suffer any brain damage from that blow. Our orders are to bring the girl unharmed to Her,” the one carrying me said. The stench emanating from him was unbearable.
“What should I have done? I couldn’t know she was going to fight like that,” the other damnatus said. That must have been the one who’d knocked me out.
“But did you have to hit her over the head with a rock?”
“Oh calm down. You can hardly see it now that I’ve washed the blood off,” he said, pulling on my hair to lift my head and look at my face. I closed my eyes and feigned unconsciousness.
The creature carrying me shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t give a damn,” he said. “I just don’t want to be the one who delivers this one to Her all bloodied.”
“Do you think I’m eager?” the first asked. “Remember Billy? She ripped his left arm off because of old Mary Hayman.”
“Mary Hayman?” the one carrying me asked. “Wasn’t that the old woman who was snooping around everywhere?”
“Yeah, Billy was supposed to grab her, but the Order got to her first.” He made an indefinable sound, a kind of gurgling grunt. “They shut up the old snoop before she was able to unpack. And She was less than thrilled about it.”
“We’re almost there,” a third, somewhat deeper, voice said, cutting off the conversation. “Untie her hands and feet and see to it that she wakes up.”
They’re going to untie me? This was my chance! I raised my head—just barely—to look around and let it drop immediately. Damn! There were too many! At first glance in the light of the dawning day, I counted about ten damnati walking behind me and heard at least as many walking ahead.
But I had no choice, I had to try. This could be my last chance to get out of here alive.
“Be careful with that knife!” warned the one carrying me. “You’ll pay dearly for the slightest scratch.”
“You think I don’t know that?” the other said, irritated.
A second later, a scar-covered hand grabbed my tied wrist, then I felt the cold steel on my palms as he effortlessly cut me loose. My feet were next. A hand held my ankle, used the knife to cut the rope, and I was free. Adrenaline shot through me, and I kicked the creature in the chin. I slid off the creature’s shoulder and landed on my feet. But before I could run, the others encircled me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the one with the deep voice said. “We’re almost there, and you want to leave before the party’s even started?”
I looked around in a panic and saw that we were at the edge of a huge clearing in the forest. As far as I could see, there was nothing but scarfaces in black cloaks. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands.
Then I saw her.
Morgana! I blinked several times to be sure my wits hadn’t left me and what I was seeing was true. No. She had to be real—even in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined such an unbelievably beautiful woman. Wait! That wasn’t quite true . . . I had seen such a beautiful woman once before in my dreams. Eowyn. Myrddin’s mother. That was on the night after I’d seen the Calmburry book for the first time.
Out of a curiosity to see how much resemblance there was between the Eowyn of my dreams and the woman standing in front of me, I raised my eyes and looked closer at Morgana. Everything about her seemed perfect. Big, dark, almost-black eyes framed by long, full eyelashes gave me a penetrating look. Perfectly arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, full, pale-red lips, and a flawless, light skin tone. A face that looked sculpted, surrounded by waist-long, shining, raven-black hair and a body even the gods would envy. I swallowed hard as I attempted to process the flood of impressions. In the presence of this perfect being, any other creature—man, woman, splendid songbird, or majestic flower—must feel ashamed. At least, that’s how I felt.
She slowly stepped toward me with the dignity and glory of a Roman empress as the eyes of hundreds of scarfaced cloak-wearers followed her. The train of her hooked-lace, black-as-the-night gown trailed on the damp forest floor. A gentle smile spread across her face. When she began to speak, I caught a glimpse of her immaculate white teeth, though they seemed too pointed to be human.
“Welcome, my child,” she began in a clear, singing tone, came directly toward me, and spread her arms in invitation. “We have eagerly awaited your arrival.”
The dangerous undertone in her voice caused me to shrink back from her embrace. A murmur went through the ranks of the surrounding cloak-wearers when I evaded Morgana’s touch. But when I looked into her face again, she smiled leniently.
“Please, no false modesty, my little one,” she said in a soft voice.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Oh,” Morgana answered surprised. “It would appear you’re not shy, after all, by the way you address me.” She began to stroll back and forth in the clearing. “I merely want to ask a small favor of you,” she said while looking at me kindly. “Just a little help with a ritual. No more.” She waved her hand in the air as if her “favor” was hardly worth mentioning. “But first things first. I want to show you something, my love.” As she smiled, her long, slender fingers slid into the right pocket of her gown and pulled out a thin, silver-and-green piece of jewelry.
“Do you know what this is?” Morgana asked, sweet as sugar, looking at me expectantly.
I looked closely at the shining object in her hand. Is that . . . ? I gasped. Where did she . . . ? “My amulet!” I shouted, my eyes wide.
Morgana smiled, satisfied. Obviously, I had reacted as she had hoped. “Not quite, my little one.” She stopped for a moment to enjoy the sight. “This really is Nimue’s amulet,” she said, tenderly stroking the jewel with her fingers as if trying to put it to sleep. “It had been lost for so many years I believed it had disappeared in the eddies of time,” she continued, deep in thought. Then she looked into my eyes. “Where did you get it?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure how to answer, so I said, “My mother gave it to me.”
She looked at me skeptically. “You don’t know what kind of amulet this is, do you?” Morgana asked smugly. “This isn’t just an ordinary necklace, my dear. This”—again she tenderly stroked the crystal—“is a magical jewel that was crafted with a special purpose. It conceals the wearer from all those who want to harm her.” A gentle smile spread across her face. “Merlin made it for Nimue to protect her after she’d given up Avalon, her magic, and, therefore, her immortality. For his sake. To be together with him as a human.” Morgana looked up at the sky. “That surely was one of his most outstanding achievements,” she said and suddenly appeared lost in thought.
It will protect you, the voice of my mother echoed again in my mind. She was right. The amulet had protected me over the years. Until . . . Madison had ripped it from my neck.
The damnatus standing closest to Morgana loudly cleared his throat, bringing the witch back. It appeared she was frequently lost in her thoughts. She immediately trained her dark eyes on me and smiled.
“The amulet made you a Concealed, my dear. All those years . . . when I was first able to sense your mother and a few years later finally your sister, this miserable Order did all the dirty work for me.” Again her look drifted away. “Hmm, I’d thought pretty little Zara was the last of Nimue’s bloodline . . .”
I felt a stab in my chest when she spoke Zara’s name, making it impossible for me to suppress a quiet whimper. Morgana gave me a pointed look. “The amulet hid you from all of us”—she glared, smiling, self-satisfied—“until your little friend arrived and begged me to get rid of you. In return for the amulet.” Morgana nodded toward her subjects, whereupon one of the disfigured, scarfaced cloak-wearers disappeared into the dense woods and returned a little later carrying something heavy. As soon as the hideous monster was within sight again, I saw that he was roughly dragging a delicate, unconscious girl by her bright red hair.
“Madison!” I cried out, horrified, when I recognized her. “What have you done to her?”
The damnatus let the lifeless body drop in the dirt a few feet in front of Morgana. I ran over to the unconscious girl, bent over her, and frantically searched her neck for a pulse. On the third try, I felt a weak beat under her pale skin.
“Thank God!” I said, relieved. She was weak, but she was alive.
“You’re happy she’s alive?” Morgana asked, startled. “Didn’t you listen to me? She came to me because she wanted me to kill you!” She was clearly incapable of understanding my reaction. “Actually, she was supposed to be a present for you,” she said, slightly offended. “But if you don’t want to kill the traitor yourself . . .” She took a step toward me and Madison, bent down to us, and pressed the tips of her long delicate fingers into the tender depression at the bottom of Madison’s neck. “Then I’ll do it for you.”
At the moment Morgana’s fingertips touched Madison’s skin, Madison convulsed in a seizure, gasping for air, opened her bloodshot eyes wide, and looked at me in horror while the blood vessels in her neck bulged out and turned black. I was so frightened, I shrank back. I saw nothing but pure terror in Madison’s eyes. Then, she exhaled with a rattle. When her body went completely limp, I knew she was dead.
At the sight of the dead girl, I could no longer keep my tears back. One after another, they ran down my cheeks. Although I didn’t like Madison and she’d tried to make my life miserable at every opportunity during my brief stay in Oxford, I was still overcome with grief by her cruel and senseless murder. The grotesque manner in which her life had ended seemed to contravene all laws of nature. It was hideous. Everything here was simply hideous. This unreal
place, these scar-covered monsters hidden under their long, black cloaks lurking in this clearing and at the edge of the forest behind the trees . . . Everything around me was unnatural. No, worse yet—it was perverted. But what was more perverted was the vicious, terrifyingly beautiful witch standing right in front of me, smiling at me with maternal warmth.
“Oh don’t be sad, my little child. She was only a human. For her, death is only the logical outcome of life.” She shrugged indifferently. “Whether she’d snuff it a few years sooner or later doesn’t matter in the least.”
I stared at Morgana through the murky veil of my tears, full of hate. This mad woman’s complete disdain for human life drove an ice-cold shiver down my spine. She despised life and glorified death. Love and friendship meant nothing to her. Morgana only seemed to delight in the pain and suffering of others. And it would be my turn next.
How did I get here? Why had I run away? Away from . . . Jared. I could barely think his name. Maybe he would have come with me and started a new life with me somewhere, far away from all the misfortune the two of us had experienced in our lives.
I’m so sorry, Jared! I started to cry again. I love you! That was the only thought my brain was capable of. I loved Jared. I loved him more than anything else. I loved him with all my heart. From the very first moment I saw him. And now I’d have to console myself with his memory. There was no escape from this horror.
“Will you kill me now?” I said. Better to know what was coming than to be tormented by uncertainty.
“Why no, my dear! What are you thinking?” she said with feigned shock and then fixed her merciless eyes on me. “I have something special in mind for you,” she added as her eyes darkened and an evil grin spread across her flawless face. She was finally letting the mask drop to reveal her true nature. Morgana was evil incarnate. In the shape of a gorgeous woman who could crush an empire with a single bat of her eye. “At first, I really did plan to kill you, but when your little friend here”—she kicked Madison’s corpse—“told me that lovely Jared had fallen head over heels for you, my plans changed.” She looked at me with contempt. “Just so we don’t misunderstand each other: although you descend from the bloodline of the mighty Lady of the Lake, you are only a human and, therefore, not worth much more than this one.” She again nudged Madison’s corpse. “That dear Jared has totally fallen for you changes the situation significantly. You’ve become, shall we say, a precious little toy for me.”